


Where'd you go

by Totallyawesomegeek



Series: Where'd you go 'Verse [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-11 14:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2070966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totallyawesomegeek/pseuds/Totallyawesomegeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the Fort Minor song "Where'd you go?" Kurt is in Los Angeles as a fashion magazine intern and Blaine is waiting for him in their New York house. The summary of a year spent apart, and the consequences that come from having to choose between work and love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where'd you go

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone. My name is Mary and this is the first fanfic I've ever published on AO3. I've had the idea of this song story for a while and I thought it was time to try my hand and see if I was any good at it. I have already a sequel in the making. It's called "Don't let me go" and it will be up as soon as I can.
> 
> I hope you'll like it. Let me know what you think.
> 
> Also big thanks to my beta, who turned this story into something quite refined.
> 
> ENJOY!

WHERE'D YOU GO?

 

_Where'd you go I miss you so_  
Seems like it's been forever since you've been gone  
Please come back home.

 

"I miss you."  
It's nothing more than a whisper, almost softer than the wind. On the other end of the line the responding breath is heavier, but just as pained.  
"I know, but it won't be forever."  
And despite it all, Blaine believes it. The date on the calendar says that Kurt has been gone for six months and he hasn't come home yet. Not for a day, not for a week-end. Not even for a couple of hours.  
They've been married for a year now, half of which they've spent apart.  
His husband is on the other side of the country. And Blaine can feel the distance like it's something physical, each and every single mile a tangible thing.

 

_Some days I feel like shit._   
_Some days I wanna quit,_   
_and just be normal for a bit._

 

"I can't stand them, they're all fake and petty. It's not what I was expecting, and it's not what I want. I wanted to write about fashion, not about parties and gossip."  
Blaine's voice is like an anchor in the midst of a storm.  
"You would regret quitting. And hey, it's not forever, right?"  
It's what Kurt has been telling him for the last eight months. That this is just a temporary job, the first step towards their dream. But Kurt is in Los Angeles, with his magazine and fashion and runways.  
And Blaine is miles away from him. With his patients and his appointments. He's in their New York house, now empty and silent. For Blaine nothing seems temporary anymore. The distance seems to change a bit by bit into a wall between them. But there's always their love to keep them company. And in the end, everything is going to be alright.

_I don't understand why you have to always be gone._

"Happy birthday my love! I didn't get to talk to you before I went to work, but we'll talk when you wake up. I hope you have a wonderful day. There's a present for you in the mail."

 

_And, I find myself trying to stay by the phone,_   
_'Cause your voice always helps me to not feel so alone,_   
_But I feel like an idiot, workin' my day around the call,_   
_But when I pick up I don't have much to say_

 

"I'm so sorry. I was working all day, and then my co-workers decided to throw me a birthday dinner to celebrate and after we went for a few drinks, I didn't want to wake you up… Blaine?"  
A sigh.  
"Kurt, it's not my birthday you didn't make time to call on."  
It's an accusation more than anything else. Because on the day of his thirtieth birthday, the man he's spent most of his life with, has forgotten about him. Not a warning. Not even a message.  
"I've been waiting for a call from you all day. I kept my stupid phone with me, ready to pick it up, during every appointment."  
"Blaine.."  
"Goodnight Kurt."  
The sound of the dead line seems like the echo of their story now.  
Kurt leaves a message. "I'm sorry. I love you."  
But there's no answer.

 

_You know the place where you used to live,_   
_Used to barbecue up burgers and ribs,_   
_Used to have a little party every Halloween with candy by the pile,_   
_But now, you only stop by every once and a while_

 

"Do you need a hand with those burgers?"  
Burt's voice is comforting. Almost a blanket around the cold that's been taking residence in his heart. It's a tradition for them, reuniting on Halloween. Cooking outside, in the backyard, waiting for the kids dressed up for trick-or-treating to knock on the door.  
It's a family tradition, started before they were even a family, when they were just two kids in high school, two helplessly in love sixteen year old boys with no idea what life was about.  
"It's always been my job. Yours is to rest. Carole has been sending you threatening looks for a while now."  
Burt chuckles "I learned to manage those looks a long time ago." Then silence. "He hasn't come home yet." Blaine's face is somber. "No..it's been nine months."  
"He'll come back."  
Blaine just focuses back on the grill, a heavy heart and words stuck behind his closed lips.

 

_I'm doin' fine, and I'm plannin' to keep it that way,_   
_You can call me if you find that you have something to say_

 

It's the last patient of the day.  
The physical exhaustion is tearing Blaine apart, but more than that it's the emotional burnout that is dragging him down.  
"That's the last one for today."  
Kate's chipper voice is a blessing, a welcomed distraction from the void inside of him.  
"It's time to go home, don't you think?"  
The question is almost a routine, just like the answer. But this time it's different.  
"No. Blaine, it's time to go out, come on." She gestures for him to follow her. "You've been buried in that house for months now, you need to be around other people. You need to have a night of fun."  
"Kate.." he trails off. There's an objection on the tip of his tongue, but it stops there to rest heavily. The mute walls of his desolate home are too much to bear, and the bed is a place he doesn't know anymore.  
Maybe that's what will be the cure. Maybe he really does need a change.  
"Where are we going?"  
And the world becomes a little less grey after that.  
"Hey Blaine. I was hoping to catch you before going to work but your phone is off," he pauses. "Call me when you can."

 

_Where'd you go?_   
_I miss you so,_   
_Seems like it's been forever,_   
_That you've been gone,_   
_Please come back home…_

 

"It's been ten months Kurt."  
His voice is tired. He has no fight left in him. But how can he let go? How can he not fight for what they have? For what they've shared?  
"I know, I promise I'll be home for Christmas."  
"Kurt."  
"It's just a few more weeks Blaine. Listen, I have to go now, but I'll call you soon, ok?"  
"OK. I love you."  
But the line is already dead, his feelings unheard and seemingly unrequited.

It's Christmas eve, the house is empty. The tree in the corner, beside the couch, is waiting to be adorned. They bought it last Christmas, before Kurt left. They had decorated it with old memories and new ones. With a thousand sparkling lights. And now, all it seems to do is mock him, it says; "He hasn't come back. He's not here. He won't be home for Christmas."  
Blaine is tired.  
His luggage is ready. He is ready to go back to their family in Ohio. Just a couple of days, because they have work and things to do, but it's Christmas. And Christmas is family time before all else.  
It's Christmas eve and the message left on his cell phone is mocking him too.  
"I can't get out. Go to my parents, I'll see you in a couple of days. I'II call you tonight."  
But he can't go, because he knows what's going to happen. He knows the barely concealed, pitying looks he will receive.  
He knows they're waiting for him to break.  
It's Christmas eve and Blaine is tired.  
It's Christmas eve.

 

_It seems one thing has been true all along,_   
_You don't really know what you've got 'til it's gone,_   
_I guess I've had it with you and your career,_   
_When you come back I won't be here…_

 

The house is empty and silent when he opens the door. He's been gone for twelve months. It's the 28th of December and he should have been back last week, but his job has been hectic, and made it impossible to get back home. Blaine's voice the last time he'd called had been excruciating and excruciated. The couple of stolen week-ends he had been able to come to LA, not enough.  
But they made it, and they would make it still, if that was what it would take. Blaine would never allow Kurt's dreams to be tossed aside, not for anything in the world.  
But there's something wrong. The air is too still and the shivers running down his spine are not of the pleasurable sort.  
The light is on now. It's all too static, too silent.  
Blaine's desk is the first thing to catch is eyes, it's empty, just like the shelf with their CD collection that's next to it.  
A feeling he's never felt before freezes him. It's fear.  
The run to the bedroom is over too quickly, yet manages to feel like it takes an eternity at the same time. Then come the tears. Desperation.  
The closet, the drawers…all empty. The suitcase next to the dresser is gone.

There's a note on the bed.  
His hands shiver as he picks it up. A ring slips from between the paper and falls to the floor, the same one that he put on his boyfriend's finger when they got married. The same stating to the whole world that Blaine was his husband, only his.  
"It's over." Two words. A shot to the heart.  
Because Blaine, beautiful, incredible, irreplaceable, Blaine is gone. He'd stopped fighting for him, for them.  
Their time together flashes through his mind, all of their memories happy and bad ones.  
The guilt of his absence, the guilt of destroying the most precious thing he had in his life.  
It all seems useless now. The long hours at work, the refusal to let go even for a second. It's all been for nothing. It's cost him the man he loves.  
He doesn't even have the right to cry, he doesn't deserve it; but he lets them fall anyway. He picks up his cell phone.  
His view of the screen his blurred but he manages to type out a few words.  
"I'll wait for you."  
But the number is disconnected, and the message remains suspended in the air.  
Just like their love.  
No answer.


End file.
